Absence Makes the Heart Do Something
by Magali1
Summary: *Complete 7/3/2014* Luke meets a mystery person while overseas. Set in future. Friendship fic. Multi-chapter.
1. Absence Makes

**A/N:**One of my favorite things about fic is that you can take characters you like from a show who have never shared a scene and put them together. I wanted to do that with two characters and figured out a way to do it. Might be way too out there for some, but at the same time, I hope I've written it in a way to justify some of the character choices in this fic. Anyways, this is multi-chapter, but will probably only be about five chapters total. Enjoy :)

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**1. Absence Makes...**

"Becky…" Luke droned, closing his eyes. He hit his head back against the wall of his room, shaking his head. He opened his eyes again, as Becky said something about how she just couldn't talk to him about this anymore. "Becky I don't want to end like this. Fighting." They always fought. He was so tired of it.

"Well I'm sorry," Becky said, her voice thick with tears. Shit. He absolutely hated what this did to her, he thought, scrubbing his hand over his face. She hiccuped. "But you say you don't want us to move to Germany. What am I supposed to think Luke? You don't want to be with us? What, do you have some woman over there you keep or something?"

He heard himself snapping before he really processed what he was saying. "Well what about you and Riggins, huh? He takes care of my house while I'm not there, my kids…"

"Oh whatever Luke. Tim's got his own shit."

Yeah, his kid, whatever. Luke didn't believe the story behind that sob-fest. Woman dropped the kid off on his doorstep, poor, poor Tim. Needed help and everything. Single dad. Whatever. Woman probably realized what her future was if she stayed with Tim and raised his spawn so she got out while the going was good, he thought, not that he ever would say that to Becky. Or to Riggins. He didn't fancy losing an eye. From either of them. Becky still worshiped Tim. It still pissed him off, despite what both of them said about there never been an attraction. His ass. He rolled his eyes. "His kid realize what's in store for her?"

"That's not funny. She's acting out."

"She's three!"

"And she doesn't talk, Luke! She doesn't speak! Ever! That's not good, but you wouldn't know that because our kids are fine, they actually are following their developmental stages of life, not that that you are here for it because you're always gone!" I'm always gone, I know, he wanted to scream. I'm trying to get out. It's just hard! He'd seen his squadron mates after they left. Getting shit jobs flying choppers for tour companies or local fire departments. Some died because civilian choppers were pretty much unregulated and constantly in need of repair. It was a mess. He had done three tours in Afghanistan flying the Hindu Kush. What was he going to do in West Texas?

He rubbed at his eyes again, muttering. "Becky I just want to stop fighting."

"Then we'll stop fighting, but please Luke." She waited again, her voice soft. "Please come home."

They disconnected a moment later. He threw his phone aside, closing his eyes and lifted his face up to the ceiling. I need a drink. He didn't want to think what he was thinking. Thinking about strangling Tim Riggins the next time he saw him. Angry that he trusted Becky but part of him didn't trust…he didn't know. He didn't like feeling these things. Conflicted. They'd been married for ten years. Right after he got out of basic. They had two kids. Twins. A boy and a girl. They were six and he loved them insanely much, but he missed a lot of everything.

I can't think like this anymore. I need to get out. He pushed himself off the floor, grabbing his keys. Germany. Ramstein. He'd been on this base for the last few weeks, training before they were going to ship down to Djbouti, to run flights over some nasty parts of North Africa. They'd be there for three months. Then he was scheduled for R&R before the plan was Iraq. Again. He hated that place more than Afghanistan. At least Afghanistan was cold sometimes. Becky could stay on the base, but he didn't want his family growing up in military housing. He'd seen too many of his friends' kids resent them for constantly moving around, uprooting their friendships and their sports teams. He'd seen their wives and in some case their husbands, resent them for it as well. Becky worked hard, she was a teacher's aide and she loved it. She pulled a decent living from it. For West Texas at least. "I'm out of here," he mumbled, shoving a battered East Dillon baseball cap on over his head.

About an hour later, he was sitting on the stool in one of his favorite bars outside of Ramstein, watching a soccer game on TV. They aired the football games, because most of the bar's clientele were American servicemen. It wasn't on yet anyway. He was going to be sleeping when the Texans played tomorrow. He lifted his glass of beer up to his lips, content to just be left alone to get…drunk, he supposed. Karl the bartender and owner had an apartment above the bar where he stashed sloshed servicemen. He knew that if they were caught drunk on base they'd be in deep shit. Luke set the glass down on the worn oak bar, looking down at the coaster. He heard someone sit beside him, a soft 'thud' of a purse hitting the floor and then a quiet voice asked for a Heineken. He smiled quickly, his voice equally soft. It was a quiet night tonight. Mostly people like him, probably off the phones with people back home, wanting to drink it away. "Ordering a Dutch drink in a German bar, bold."

"I don't like German beer," the voice said, a soft chuckle following. The woman who belonged to the voice sipped her drink and set it down, turning her head slowly towards him. Luke glanced sideways. Wow. She was pretty. Her hair was dark and fell to her shoulders, but it was curly. Probably from being twisted up during the day, if she was military. She smiled a little, turning her beer around on the coaster. "East Dillon Lions, haven't seen that in a very long time."

How in the hell…oh, his hat. He cocked his head, smiling quickly. "You're from Dillon?"

The woman smirked, but dropped her chin in a slight nod. "Yes. I'm from Dillon. Haven't been back in…" she trailed off, her voice even quieter, looking away. "About six months."

"Deployed?" he asked.

"Doctor." She sighed hard. "Yeah…Army always needs doctors and I have a lot of student loans to pay off. Wasn't really my first choice, but…you can only play the lottery many times." She sipped her drink again. Another moment passed and she arched her eyebrow again. "Officer?"

There were rules against fraternization. "First Lieutenant."

"Major."

"Ma'am," he immediately said, but smiled after it. There was something very familiar about her. He had no idea what it was. He didn't recognize her. Didn't go to school with her. At least in East Dillon. He squinted. "Do we know each other? I mean…from Dillon?" He swore he'd seen her face somewhere before, but he couldn't place it.

She shrugged. "I went to Dillon when it was just Dillon. Graduated the year that they opened East Dillon up." She smiled quickly, her arms folded on the bar. She opened her mouth to speak, but then hesitated, closing it again, looking away at her drink. "You…you still there in Dillon, then?"

He shook his head, but then nodded. Always forgot that he technically lived there. "Well…yeah I do. I mean, my wife and kids live in Dillon. My parents are still in Dillon. I'm just…not in Dillon." Not for a lack of trying. He wasn't sure if he ever wanted to go back, but…for all Becky's talk, she wasn't planning on leaving unless it was for some far off locale and he wasn't doing that to their kids. He looked over at her. "You?"

"I left after high school." She swallowed another long drink of beer, gasping slightly, her eyes watering. "Nothing really left there for me. I go back…sometimes." She mumbled, more to herself than to him. "I left something there."

Well isn't this just sad and pathetic. "You married?" he asked. He laughed at her suddenly screwed up face, before waving his left hand, his gold ring glinting. "So am I, it's fine."

The woman shook her head, her hair falling over her pale face. She threw her hair back over her shoulder again, straightening up on her barstool, her hands folding around her beer glass. "I am…" she trailed off, her throat visibly constricting and her eyes widening slightly before she closed them. "I am not married. I am…otherwise engaged."

"Otherwise engaged? What's that mean?"

"Means that it's none of your business Lieutenant." The woman took another long pull from her beer, hopped off the stool and tossed some Euros down to cover it. She slung her bag strap over her shoulder, the beaten up leather messenger bag hitting against her hip. She smiled. "I'll see you around, hopefully not at Landstuhl in the neurology wing." She winked, pushing away from the bar and walked off.

Interesting. He wasn't sure what that was. Landstuhl. Well, she was a doctor, where else would she work. He shook his head a little and returned to his beer and the soccer game, blanking out of everything else, including strange women from Dillon, Texas who had found themselves in Germany.


	2. The Heart Grows Fonder

**2. ****...The Heart Grows Fonder**

"Fancy seeing you here."

"Well this is my seat." The woman from the bar the week before was once again sitting in the same spot, holding onto a glass of Heiniken. Her hair wasn't free, but still in a tight braided bun. She gestured towards it, since he'd been looking. "It was a long day. Fucking IEDs."

Yeah fuck them, he thought, sitting on the other side of her. He gestured to Karl. "Whatever's on draft. Bitte." He smiled quickly at the woman, who just frowned. He shrugged. "You know it's funny, I still haven't picked up German since being here for what? Been in ten years. Probably spent about five in Germany."

She chuckled and then rattled something off in a language he sort of recognized from Afghanistan. She wiggled her eyebrows. "Pashto. Some German rattling around in there with Spanish and Arabic. Know a little bit of Farsi as well."

"How the hell do you know Farsi? Last I checked we don't have a military base in Iran."

She shrugged. "I was in Iraq for a bit doing humanitarian work with Uncle Sam. A lot of the Iraqis I treated spoke accents with some Farsi. They were from the southern region, near Iran." She reached for a bowl of pretzels, popping a couple into her mouth and chewing as she smiled slightly. "My doctoring skills with the US Army have taken me to some interesting places to treat some interesting people."

Sounds like it. He pointed to the ceiling. "I fly choppers."

"Evacs? Blackhawks?"

"Apaches."

"Ooh, a fighter. Nice." She bit into another pretzel. A ring sparkled on her right ring finger. It looked like a class ring, but he leaned a little closer, peering at it. She bit into another pretzel, her eyes darting to the ring and back. "It's a Texas high school State championship ring."

Yeah I can see that now. Dillon Panthers. He frowned a little. "Who would give that to you?" His ring was with Becky. Instead of an engagement ring. He wondered if it was the same for her. He smiled quickly, hoping he didn't seem rude. Might share the same hometown but they were still strangers. And he was still one rank beneath her. "I mean...seems like a big thing. I would know I've got one."

Mystery Woman picked up another handful of pretzels, the ring sparkling. "I got it from someone who wants me to bring it back to him." She smiled quickly, but it didn't meet her eyes. She cleared her throat. "And you can...you can just ask you know? I'll answer the first time." She paused. "Kind of like how I'm going to ask you how come you're flirting with me and not your wife?"

I'm not flirting…what the fuck, am I flirting? He had no idea. He closed his eyes briefly. "Sorry…my wife's in Texas. We…I don't know what's going on with us she has this…" he sighed hard, as the woman beside him just munched on pretzels, listening closely. What was it with her? He didn't even know her and yet he was spilling his guts. She had some sort of listening quality. Geez. Before he knew it, he was spilling. "She has this friend. He…he's always been around and she's always had a crush on him and I just…it's been ten years."

"Has she ever cheated on you with him?"

"No! I mean...not I know, but…I think I'd know." He waited another moment. Shit. His eyebrows lifted and he focused on his beer glass. He took a long pull, gasping. "Hell I hope I'd know."

She nodded curtly. "You'd know. Believe me. You always know," she said, her voice quiet. She dropped her voice again. "They always know."

He turned to look at her; she seemed very sad, lost in thought. "You?" he murmured. Maybe that's why she wasn't married.

She nodded slightly, but then her eyes narrowed a little, her voice whispering. "I was the one doing the cheating that time. Then he cheated on me. We got back at each other in some ways…it was a long, long time ago." She took a deep breath, sighing hard. "And now I've got a…boyfriend I guess. I don't know what he is. In any case…you said you have children?"

"A boy and a girl."

"What are their names?"

They didn't even know each other's names, but for some reason that was okay with Luke. It was nice to talk to her. She had a very comforting presence and the fact that they shared something in common like hometown was nice, even though they hadn't mentioned it again. He found himself trusting in her, although he knew he probably shouldn't. Pretty women in bars were never really a good idea in most respects. He reached into his pocket, removed a photo he kept of them and passed it over, smiling at the sight of his kids. "Tillie and Tommy."

"Tillie? What a sweet name. Old-fashioned in a good way." She smiled, but it didn't meet her eyes again. She set the picture down on the bar, pushing it towards him with one finger, her voice soft. "They're really cute. I like the Panther outfits."

"Yeah well…my wife…she's close with the coach of the team now." He sighed. Billy. Such an idiot. At least he finally got his act together. Sort of. He took the picture back, nodding to her. "Your turn. Share."

"Share? I don't think so."

"You have a kid?" There was something empty about her. He didn't want to get too sappy, but from one parent to another, he was pretty sure she had one. Must be rough. It killed him to be away from them. He couldn't imagine being a mother way from your child. He waited, but she didn't say anything. He cleared his throat. "Come on. I'm not going to give up my soul to a stranger without getting something in return."

She took another sip of her beer and then reached into her bag. Out came a small black leather folded photo sleeve, with two small pictures inside. She opened it up and folded it back, passing it to him, her voice soft. "This is my daughter. She's three…I haven't seen her in six months." She smiled, whispering again. "The price I pay for doing what I do. I take care of other women's babies. Grown babies, but we're all babies to someone…I put their spines back together so they can walk and talk again and while I do that...my baby is in Texas…learning how to drink Lone Star and play football," she laughed, but it was more of a sob.

The baby in the photo was cute, he thought. The photo on the left was of a newborn, lying in a pink and white lacy crib, eyes open and staring up. There was something familiar about her too. The one beside it was of a three-year old. He was good at pegging their ages now. Standing up and holding onto a large rind of watermelon at a party of some sort, dark hair in pigtails and wearing a Dillon Panthers jersey. He chuckled at the number. "Threes," he murmured. He glanced sideways. "Running back jersey. I was Fours. Forty-four."

"Not good enough for college?" she asked.

"No. Not good enough for college. Good enough for the Army."

"Anything is good enough for the Army," she murmured.

He did not peg her for military at all. Maybe Peace Corps or something. He wanted to know. So he'd ask, just like she told him. "So what'd you do? ROTC or something? Decide one morning you'd just join up?" he asked, leaning on the counter. He twirled his drink around, watching it slosh against the side. It wasn't sexist or anything. He worked with a chopper mechanic who had won beauty pageants her whole life. Stunning woman. She could kick ass and also beat you to death with a wrench if you screwed up her helicopters too.

Mystery Girl smirked, drinking her beer. She set it down and swallowed, her hand covering the small picture of her daughter again. "Well you know," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I survived Texas. Surely I could survive the military?"

"I'm serious," he said, but he still chuckled. He gestured towards her. "Don't write me up on charges but you're not half bad looking, not that you can't be and still be..." he trailed off, closing his eyes. Foot in mouth. "I'm going to shut up now."

"Aw man, I really feel special now." They both laughed, but she finally closed her mouth, waiting another moment before she stared off at the back of the bar, at her reflection. She lifted her hand to her cheek, holding it for a second before dropping it down again to the countertop. She shook her head. "I just…I needed money to pay for school. That's as simple as it gets. I was always an athlete so the physicality of it didn't bother me…I wanted to help people so I went to medical school. I got into spinal…" she trailed off, turning to look at him again, her voice quiet. "Do you know what I work on the most at Landstuhl?"

This was taking a turn. "No."

"I work on men and women who can't move their feet. Hands. Some can't breathe. I fix spines." She smiled, her eyes closing and whispering. "If you ever want to know what profession on Earth makes you feel most like God? Go into neurology."

Well that was creepy. Luke cocked his head. "Sounds like you uh…a bit of a..what do you call it? Messiah Complex, that's it. Sounds like you've got that."

She grinned, drinking her beer a little faster, with larger gulps. "Yeah," she laughed. "I do have a bit of that….anyways…I needed to start paying off my loans halfway through medical school. My uncle could only pay for my good ole' Southern education for so long before my father pissed him off again." She rolled her eyes. There must be a story there, he wondered, still listening. "So I could get scholarships and I could get loans. I could work like any other person, but…I had to go to Columbia of all places."

Columbia. That was an expensive college. "How much do you owe them?" he murmured. Not that he wanted to know, but…it might explain her motivation.

"I don't ever owe anyone anything. Which is why I needed someone to pay for me and well you know, Peace Corps just doesn't pay." She waited a moment, leaning her head on her hand, her hair falling over to brush against her elbow and the side of the bar. "Without Uncle Sam stepping in and taking me for five years…" She took a deep breath, lifting her beer to her lips. "300."

"That's not bad."

"Thousand."

Oh fuck. That was a lot of dough. His eyes widened. "Seriously?" he murmured. He laughed, unable to say anything else. That was…wow. He went into the Army because he didn't have any other options for a future. Now look at him. He flew Apaches for a living. That had to translate to something in the private sector once he was done with the government.

Mystery Woman nodded, laughing. "Yup. My first two years at Vanderbilt were paid for. I had some scholarships, not a lot, but a few to take the load off of stuff like rent and stupid expenses like living. Then I went to Columbia and it just kind of exploded from there. New York rent, New York living, and about $40K a year for school for four years? Yeah. Military was a good option for me." She shrugged again. "Besides, at least the spines I'm fixing are…I mean these kids need a good doctor and I'm a great doctor and they're getting it here."

That was a decent attitude to have. He smiled again, his voice quiet. "You know someone with a broken spine?" I've met someone with one. It wasn't that big of a deal, but it seemed personal to her.

She hesitated and then shook her head. "No."

Okay then. Guess she didn't know Jason then. Maybe they were a couple years off in school or something. He looked down at her picture again, the little girl smiling back. He squinted. She was familiar…. "Hey…" he trailed off, reaching to touch it. "That jersey number…"

Mystery Woman snatched the photo, put some Euros down again and then rested her hand on his shoulder, her eyes fixing on his. Her voice was harder than he heard it the last time. He sensed it was stronger too, than it normally was. "Whatever you think is going on with your wife and some guy back home, do you trust her? In the end, is your relationship based on trust for her? You may not trust the guy as far as you can throw them and nor should you, I don't even know who he is, but in the end do you trust your wife?"

Did he trust Becky? Yes. Yes, he did. In the ten years they'd been together and the off/on relationship in high school…he totally trusted her. He barely nodded, but when he turned his head, Mystery Woman was already out the door. Geez. Quick, that one. He reached into his back pocket, fumbling for his cell phone. Normally they spoke via the computer, because it was cheap, but he wanted to waste the money on this, he thought, hitting the button for Becky. It rang a few times.

"Fours."

"Riggins. Where's my wife?"

"Outside, hang on."

He narrowed his eyes, staring at the counter. "What are you doing there?" he asked, quiet. It was a weekday. Probably even a schoolday. He rubbed at his face. "What's going on there now?"

"Not much. Billie's sick so sorry about that if your kids get it…Becks! Phone!" Tim sighed again. "What's going on in Germany. It's late there, yeah?"

"Eight." Not that late. They were six hours ahead. Two p.m. there if he did the math sort of right. Shouldn't his kids even be in school then? He frowned. "What are the twins doing at home?"

"School was canceled. Pipes burst."

"I see." He waited a moment, frowning slightly again. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to ask. It was just a feeling he had. Hunch. "So um, Billie…you always…always have had her, yeah?"

Tim paused. "Yes. I guess…she's my kid."

"Where's her mom again?"

"What's it matter?"

It didn't. Nevermind. He'd drank too much too fast, he figured. He released a long breath. "Becky." There was a thud and then the phone got passed over without question. He sighed her name. "Becky."

"Luke."

He closed his eyes tight, laughing. "I love you." I trust you. I trust you, he felt like saying, but didn't. He wiped at his face again, dropping his hand to the bar, mumbling. "I love you."

She sniffed. "I love you too."

"I just wanted to say that."

"I just wanted to hear it."

He smiled. That's fine, he could do that. He took a deep breathe. "I gotta' go."

"Okay." She paused, her voice soft. "I know you worry sometimes, but it's nice having someone who is sort of in the same boat is as me around here." She hesitated and then whispered. "Billie's mom? She's overseas on some charity thing. Tim doesn't talk about her but I know he misses her and you know Luke...it's really hard being a single parent. Let alone if you've just gotten the kid and he's trying. He's really trying and I just want to help him. Not that it matters anyway."

I understand. He thought to Mystery Girl, away from her kid. His voice softened. "I know. I gotta' go now."

"Bye Luke."

Bye Becky. He disconnected and closed his eyes. He opened them and stood up, walking out of the bar. He had an early night. Had to get up early in the morning. He just couldn't shake the feeling that he knew Mystery Girl. He'd have to have Becky ask around. See who in Dillon was off as a doctor in the military. Shouldn't be too difficult to figure it out.


	3. Something

**3. Something**

"So who watches your daughter when you're not home?"

Mystery Woman lit a cigarette, taking two puffs before she stubbed it out and slipped the stub back into the box with nine other perfectly whole ones. She placed the box in her beat-up bag, leaning back on the outdoor chair. She waved her hand. "My daughter stays with her father."

"Your not-husband?" He took a long pull of his beer, exhaling in happiness. Karl had gotten a new barrel. It was something from some tiny hamlet in Belgium. Amazing. He glanced at the woman again. She had her eyes closed and had lifted her feet up to the chair across from them. It was warm that evening, so they were on the outdoor patio, the sounds of raucous laughter coming from inside, where there was some sort of turtle-race going. He tapped her purse, where the cigarettes were. "What's with the sort of smoking thing?"

"I hate smoking, I'm a doctor. See enough charcoal lungs and you won't smoke…" she shrugged. Her voice dropped again and she glanced at him, smiling. "So I only take a couple puffs on one cigarette when I'm stressed out. I like holding it and…besides, if you'd known me a long time ago the idea of me even being near cigarettes would have you howling."

He slouched down in his chair, leaning against the wall of the bar, smiling sideways. "But you still smoke."

"I've seen what alcohol does to a person, inside and out and I still drink," she said, taking a long, long drink of her beer, finishing the glass. She jumped up, smiling quickly, the bracelets on her wrists jangling. It was hot out that night so she was wearing shorts and a tank top with high sandals. There was something extra wild about her that evening. "I'm getting another."

Yeah, another, sure. That was like number three, but he didn't care. He had had a long ass week. The orders came through for his squadron to ship out next week. Something was going on in Afghanistan, they needed them there so I guess off we go, he thought, leaning back again. He glanced at her phone, which was sitting beside his hand. He looked back at the bar; through the open door he could see her at the bar, laughing with a few guys. Hmm, he thought, reaching for it. No. No, not at all.

But…he frowned again. If it was out of safety…shit. Talk about trust, he thought, grabbing the phone and glanced at it. A text was on the main screen, which was an image of her and her daughter. She was wearing her military uniform, dress blues, and the little girl had on a dress with an American flag on it. The text bubble was from someone named 'Michael.'

_I'm sorry about what happened between us. I know you got the papers. She's my daughter. I want custody._

Oh fuck. He set the phone aside, willing the screen to go black, which it did, by the time she came back outside, setting her beer on the table. "I learned to drink in high school," she said, at his curious look at the pint of Guinness in her hand. She took a long sip, setting it down again and then laughed. "Oh my gosh…if the mean girls could see me now."

I think all women have that thought at least once. Becky ran into one of her tormentors in the grocery store once. He'd been terrified she was going to kill the woman, but then she'd just said that after two kids she was still skinnier than the bitch in front of her so look how well and happy she turned out, and then she walked right on to the cashier counter. "Yeah if they could," he said, his voice quiet. He sighed again, thinking of that text. Shit Luke. He glanced at her again. "So um, your daughter…you said she lives with her dad? Any problems with that, you know, with you being here and her being…being there?"

Mystery Woman shrugged, looking away again. "She's three. She doesn't know that I'm gone. All she knows is that Mommy is that person inside of a box...that Mommy is the person that sits on Daddy's nightstand in a picture and…and yeah." She looked over at her again, smiling fast. "Your kids…they act out?"

Unfortunately. Yes. "Yes," he murmured. They were constantly trying to achieve things. When they didn't get them, they acted out. Becky took them to the school therapist, even though he said it was fine, and she'd told them both that the kids were always trying to prove themselves. It was, in their little minds, how they could bring him back. It broke his heart when he heard that. So they'd had to sit them down and explain everything with the therapist. That had kind of worked, but both of them were still Tillie and Tommy, the two kids without a dad, who was flying helicopters in some far off country where in their little heads they believed he could bring back a genie in a lamp. All he'd done last time was bring Mindy back a set of Persian rugs. And Becky got some glass jewelry from Venice, since he'd stopped there on the way back.

"Your kids might act out, but…" she trailed off, sighing hard, her voice barely a whisper. "My daughter doesn't know anything right now. She's three. She's confused and I miss her and I want to bring her here to live on base with me and…it's just hard," she said, biting her lip, turning her face towards him, her brow wrinkled. "And now I've got…I've got all kinds of stuff going on that I just don't want to get into. I just want to drink, can we drink please, Lieutenant? That's our arrangement right? We talk about Texas and we drink the fact that your twins and your wife are back in Dillon and my whatever and my daughter are there too. So let's drink."

Fine. Let's drink. He set his glass back again. After a minute, he turned to face her. She was playing with her phone. "What is your name?" he asked.

"Major."

"Your last name, ma'am."

"Major," she said, smiling. She rolled her eyes, falling back in her chair again. "Never mind." She looked over at him again, her voice very clear. "Do you know someone in Dillon, Texas named Tim Riggins?"

He turned his head quickly, his forehead furrowing. That was a weird question. "Yeah." He looked her up and down. Not really his type. Tim was more into blondes, at least, that's who he usually saw him hanging around with. Or Tyra Collette, but her hair changed daily. He drawled. "Why, do you know him?"

That's when it got weirder than normal with Mystery Girl, who shook her head, whispering. "Never mind. I don't want to get into it." She sighed, long and hard, her eyes closing. "My daughter's name…you asked me that awhile ago and I didn't tell you." She looked sideways, smiling slightly. "Her name is Sophie." The sadness seemed to dissipate immediately from her eyes and she whispered again. "Sophie Elizabeth…no one calls her that though."

He chuckled. It was like his kids. Tillie and Tommy. "Tillie's really name is…I don't even really know how she got it, it's a combination of things. Her real name is actually Taylor Melinda. She couldn't say it right so she kept calling herself Tillie…so it stuck. Kids are funny like that," he said. He wondered what her daughter's nickname was.

"And your son?"

"He's more straight-forward." He smiled wide at the thought of his son. Looked just like him, which was a little creepy. He reached in and pulled out another picture of him, wearing a Pee Wee football jersey. He wouldn't pressure them into playing football, but if they wanted…fine. "Thomas Timothy."

"That's a nice name…Timothy," she whispered, lifting her eyes up, her lips pursed. She nodded at the picture. "He's really cute. He plays football?"

"He's in Dillon, of course he plays football."

"My daughter wants to play football." She smiled, propping her chin on her hand and tapped her fingers on the table. "She doesn't take the word 'no' too kindly when my dad told her that only boys play football…" She trailed off again, looking away. "Her dad wasn't happy with that so…he told her if she wanted to play, then damnit she'd be in the Super Bowl one day. So she practices…tells me all the time on the…" She waved her finger around. "Computer thing."

"I hate using the computer to see them."

"You and me both." She sighed again. "It's kind of cruel. She thinks I'm in the box and actually…" she laughed a little, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "She dropped the laptop once…tried to get it open to get me out. Thought that I was trapped like a princess in a tower or something. Kids are funny."

Kids are definitely funny. He shrugged. "My wife does a good job of making sure they…well they know and they…they talk about me a lot." He supposed that was some sort of measure of comfort. At least he wasn't forgotten, replaced by Riggins. He shook his head, whispering. "You ever wonder about your…whatever he is back home…one day having enough? Going to some woman who is there?"

"No."

That was pretty quick. He frowned. She wasn't looking at him. She had her phone up, texting into it. "No?" he echoed.

"We've had this conversation with you. You're worried about your wife and some guy that helps her out? That's your business, I told you that if you trust her, you shouldn't worry about it. It might bother you, but you're not there and she is and if what you tell me is true…" she trailed off, setting the phone down with a clink on the table. Her dark eyebrow arched. "Then she wants to come out here. She wants to be close to you while you go off and shoot bad guys with your helicopter. But you have your reasons and she's respecting them. The least you can do is respect the fact that she's got someone who…" she waved her hand around, searching for a word before frowning. "Who provides her that…manly comfort I suppose. If you trust her, she'll never go beyond just asking him to clean the gutters or fix the roof or something."

And yet he knew that. He knew that deep down Becky would never, ever cheat on him. "I know," he mumbled. He didn't know what else to say.

Mystery Girl reached for her pint again. "By the way…you realize that what you're doing with me is basically emotional cheating, right?"

He coughed on the sip of beer he'd just taken. What!? His eyes widened. "I am not cheating!"

"You're confiding in another woman about your wife. I'm not a therapist. You're overstepping as much as you might think she is," Mystery Girl said. She reached for her pack of cigarettes again, pulling out the stub she'd placed in there, running a lighter over it quickly before puffing a couple of times and jamming it out again. Stupid habit, he thought, rolling his eyes. She was drunk too, that's why she was rambling like this. Her voice seemed to get squeakier. "And besides, you trust her, so you know…the guy? Whoever he is? He doesn't matter."

"But he does, you don't know him."

"Try me."

Luke grabbed his beer. He was almost done and he wasn't even sure if he wanted another if it meant he'd have to sit out here with her for another hour or so. He glared sideways. "She had a crush on him in high school." Mystery Girl snorted laughing. "I'm serious! It was…it was weird, okay? He's older and…and experienced and all and he was like this weird creepy combination of dad and brother and uncle and…and whatever. I didn't think anything of him with her because she said it never went beyond a few kisses and trust me, you'd know with this guy if he slept with her."

"Why, does he tell everyone?"

Luke rolled his eyes, shaking his head. It was stupid. "No, he just…has a way of making women not like who they're with after they've been with him. He's got a reputation." He looked back over at her, smiling quickly. "I don't think you'd go for him."

She cocked her head, but smiled a little. "You'd be surprised," she murmured. She shrugged again. "So what's the big deal? Why are you still worried if you know nothing's happened? If she never acted on this crush or whatever and he never took her up on what she was offering before you?"

It was so stupid. It made him sound like a jealous ass. He rolled his eyes again, mumbling. "He was gone…for awhile. About fifteen months."

"Peace Corps?" she joked.

"Prison."

"Oh, my."

"Yeah, oh my. Anyways, he comes back and he just has this sad look and….and I think it was one of those things where he didn't have it for awhile and then there she is and she always wanted him and then she didn't because she was with me and it was just…I told him he could have her but he wasn't interested." He snorted. "Went back to his ex-girlfriend of all people."

The woman frowned, her voice soft. "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean…whatever, she dumped him again and then he just kind of disappeared for awhile. Becky and I got married after Basic and that's when I shipped off for the first time." He smiled quickly. "I guess after ten years I shouldn't be worried. I'm not…I know it sounds like I am, but I can't explain it, I really can't."

Mystery Girl reached for her phone, nodding slightly. "Yeah." She looked back at him, her voice soft. "Dillon Panthers…." She narrowed her eyes. "What's your wife's name, you never told me?"

He smiled, reaching for his phone and drew up another picture, turning it towards her. It was the four of them, the last time he was home, at some parade that they threw for the football team and he got to be a part of it, wearing his Army uniform. "Becky," he said, soft. He pointed to Tillie. "She looks just like her mother."

"Becky," Mystery Girl drawled. She smiled again. "Pretty."

"She is very pretty," he agreed.

Mystery Girl gathered up her things. "I got the drinks earlier when I got my refill. I'll see you around Lieutenant."

He set the phone down, looking up at her as she threw her strap over her shoulder, picking up her phone. "Hey, you…" he shook his head. "You never told me why you know your boyfriend or whatever won't cheat on you." He thought of the text, frowning. "Or break up with you…I guess."

She smiled, reaching into her purse for some Euros, likely for a cab. "I just know…we've been through a lot together. I trust him…." She rolled her eyes, smiling briefly. "We've been apart a lot longer. Absence makes the heart…" she smiled, turning on her heel and laughing. "Something." She lifted her hand, waving goodbye. "Later Lieutenant."

"Bye Major." He waited a moment and sighed. She was clearly going through something and she wasn't even going to share it with a stranger. Too bad. He reached for his phone, looking at the time. It was a good time, he figured, to call. He hit Becky's name, waiting. She picked up a few seconds later. "Hey."

"What's going on?"

"I just…wanted to hear your voice." He waited a few minutes, frowning slightly. "You'd…you'd tell me if you were going to take the kids right? You'd let me know…wouldn't just spring a custody thing on me?"

"What the hell? Where is this talk coming from? I am not taking our kids from you!" Becky laughed. "Luke, did one of the guys…did their wife or something…"

"This woman I met here," he said, knowing how that sounded, but if she could have her Riggins than he could have his Mystery Girl to bounce his emotions off of when it was getting too complicated. He closed his eyes, rubbing at his forehead and mumbling. "I think her…I don't know, she talks about the guy like he's the love of her life, but I saw a text on her phone…he's taking away her daughter. Trying to at least…I don't think she knows how to handle it."

Becky cleared her throat. "Sounds like she could use a drink."

"Yeah well, I'm at the bar and she just left…I don't know why I thought of…of you doing that…I know you wouldn't." He waited a beat, whispering. "How's Tillie? Did her ear infection go away?" There was the sound of rustling. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Wrapping a present. Tommy's going to a birthday party later. Kyle something."

Oh he knew that kid. Tommy had mentioned him on the video thing the other night. He scowled. "Kyle something's a shit."

"Kyle something is a shit. I've never hated another child more. His sister's a little bitch too. Pushed Tillie in the dirt, but don't worry, she got up and kicked that mean girl in the shins. I didn't even give her a time out." Becky laughed, along with him. It was good to talk like they were a normal couple. She sighed, but he could hear her smiling. "But yeah, Tillie's ear infection is gone. Tommy had it briefly, but it went away and now he has to go to Kyle something's birthday party. He's very disappointed."

"I'm sure he is." He rolled his eyes. "How's the family?" Code word for 'Tim.'

And she knew it. "They're fine. Mindy's opened up the second strip club in West Cambria. Then there's Billy, he tripped down the bleachers trying to give a speech to the team," she said, laughing. "And so now he's driving around in the golf cart with Buddy Garrity. It's ridiculous. He's got a megaphone to shout plays."

"How can anyone take us seriously with him as coach?"

"Beats me, but they're playing okay I guess." She sighed again, only this time it wasn't to change the subject in a good way. Or pause the conversation. It was preceding bad news, he thought, listening intently. "Tim's daughter…he had to take her to therapy the other day. She just doesn't talk…I mean…she talks you know? She'll say Daddy now and then but try to hold a conversation with her and she's…silent. I think she only ever talks to him. It's just so sad."

He bit his lower lip, wondering something. He cleared his throat. "Tim's daughter…has he ever heard of where the mother is?"

"You know Tim. He doesn't talk about things if he doesn't want to talk about them. He's doing the best he can. He got some papers the other day. I don't know if the mom is trying to get custody but he mentioned how he has to get a lawyer….we all tend not to want to know anything else with him." Becky dropped something in the background. "Present is wrapped. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Going to the store." That was the code word he'd developed when he couldn't tell her where he was going. Or what he was doing. He bit his lip. She didn't press further on the issue, talking about how she was thinking about maybe going to school to take some classes. She didn't mind being the teacher aide, but she was better than the teachers, and she thought maybe she might like to do that.

Something wasn't making sense. He let her talk and eventually they hung up, realizing that their conversation was costing about $50 on the phone bill in a few weeks. He got up, leaving the bar and made his way back to his room, where he crashed into bed, falling asleep instantly. He'd figure it out later.


	4. Mystery Girl No More

**4. Mystery Girl No More**

"Hey Karl."

"Ah! You're back!" Karl held his arms out, laughing. He set a beer down in front of him, almost immediately. "I was worried man, you usually tell when you're going." He nodded towards him. "How was it wherever you were?"

The night after he'd had that conversation with Becky, he'd had to ship off almost immediately to Afghanistan for a series of missions, all of them classified, and all of them exhausting. They'd made it back the night before, he'd crashed out, and then when he woke up earlier, found out that they were preparing in a week to move out to their official posting in Djbouti. For six whole months. He shrugged, in answer to Karl's question. "It sucked."

"Sorry dude."

"How's Mystery Girl?"

"Who?"

He shook his head. Whoops, let that one slip out. "I mean, um, the Major, who usually drinks with me the past couple months. Quiet voice, long dark hair?"

"Oh, yeah, Mystery Girl." He frowned. "You're right, I know just about everyone here but not her. Never pays credit, just cash. But…yeah, she's not been in for awhile. Last time she said she might be going back to the States, just for a few days. Personal leave. Maybe she got it.

I wish I could get personal leave, he thought darkly, nodding at Karl and lifting his drink, thanking him. He settled back to watch the Germany soccer match again. He was really getting into this sport since being in Europe most of his career. Even played around with some Afghan kids back when they were in Jalalabad. The night wore on and he kept turning his head to see who it was coming into the bar whenever the door opened. It was stupid, expecting to see a stranger.

It was the military. People came and went. Half his squadron that he started with when he graduated OCS and went to flight school was out of the military. He was trying to get to at least Captain before he left. For all he knew this was his career. He finished his beer, thanked Karl, and decided to just leave. He went back to his room, turning on the computer and powered up the videoconference thing. "Come on guys," he mumbled.

It chimed a few times, until the screen widened and his twins were staring at him, grinning. "Daddy!" they both shouted. "It's you!"

"Hey guys," he laughed. He waved at them. "What's going on? What are you doing today?"

"We met Uncle Tim's lady friend."

"Oh?" He arched an eyebrow. His voice hardened slightly. "Was she…presentable?" He wasn't sure what he meant by that. He sighed. "Who is she? Is she nice?"

"She's a doctor!" Tillie exclaimed, holding up her elbow, where there was a large Barbie bandaid. She stuck her lower lip out. "I scraped my elbow! Kiss it and make it better." He pretended to kiss the elbow from a few thousand miles away, leaning his head on his hand, turning the computer a little closer to him. He went with the whole boo-boo thing, calming asking her how she obtained the injury. Tillie scowled. "Tommy pushed me!"

"Did not!"

"Did so!"

"Both of you stop it," Becky ordered.

"Mommy don't be mean."

"Mommy gets the right to be mean after what you have put Mommy through today. In fact, Mommy is so frustrated with the both of you that I can't even look at you guys. Go into the other room please."

Tommy growled. "You're a mean Mommy! You wouldn't let me play with Billie today!"

"Because Billie's Mommy wanted to see her. I need to talk to your Daddy. In fact, I'm going to talk to him and I'm going to talk to him in the other room. Tell your Daddy goodbye and you love him and you will talk to him tomorrow."

He chuckled, smiling and waving goodbye to the kids as they tromped off, muttering how she was a mean Mommy. He waited until Becky was in the other room and settled with the computer on her lap. "So? What happened?"

"Your children have no manners. They about attacked this poor woman, who by the way, I actually knew," Becky laughed. She shrugged, smiling and arched her eyebrow. "It's so weird now to know what Tim was hiding. I mean, he didn't want to introduce us but it's kind of hard when I take the kids to the lake to look for alien bugs and he's there with his kid and this woman who is, by the way, the love of his life no matter what he says, I mean I told him years ago…"

He held his hand up. Becky could go off on the weirdest tangents. "What are you talking about?" How had they stumbled onto Tim's love life? He just was glad it didn't intersect with Becky's. "What love of whatever?"

She waved her hand. "Keep up Luke. So like years ago before we even knew each other, when Tim was living in the trailer, he had this girl. She stayed for three days and left and he was the worst person ever after that, he drank and moped and did nothing."

"Not seeing a difference."

"This was melancholy Luke, this was aching gutwrenching sadness that the love of his life was gone from him and he could never get her back!" That did not sound like Tim. Moping and drinking did but not the other thing. He suspected Becky Sproles Exaggeration right now. "Anyways," Becky said, continuing. "He was so different with her, it was weird. Then Tyra came back and I thought maybe he'd be the same again but he wasn't. He was still different and then…" she trailed off, holding up a finger and smiling. "I saw him with this woman today. Apparently she came back a few days ago. They had to go out of town for some reason, they had to go to Austin, I don't know why, but whatever. Anyways, long story short, it's the same girl! It's Lyla Garrity! Buddy's daughter that he never talks about."

Oh yeah? He'd never seen Lyla Garrity. Couldn't pick her out of a lineup but he'd heard stories about the supposedly perfect daughter who had made some pretty big mistakes. The last one he heard was that she'd gotten pregnant out of wedlock and she'd left the baby with her mother or something. Then went off to live in Africa. He wasn't sure that was true. But...he frowned. Something stuck in the back of his neck. It had been there since their last conversation, before she disappeared and he had to run off to Afghanistan. He shrugged. "She's in Africa right?"

"No, she's not in Africa."

Oh. Well...whatever. He was tired. He shrugged. "I'm not getting in Becky. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is what I told you! Tim's got his love back! Only not really because she had to leave tonight to return to Europe. I'm not sure what the story is and Buddy doesn't really talk about her, but she's going through this thing. The big shock of the day though isn't that she's back, it's what I found out." She pursed her lips, nodding her head slightly. "Guess."

Aw Becky. "I'm not guessing."

"Fine. So Tim doesn't know I know this, but I figured it out. You see he said that the mother of Billie just dropped her on his doorstep and she went off to the Peace Corps. I don't think that's true. I think that he's covering for someone. Have you noticed how Billie doesn't look a thing like him? I mean...I know why..."

Huh? He frowned, the realization beginning to dawn. "Um, Becky..."

"Well I mean I know why she doesn't look like Tim, but the other part, she's the spitting image of Lyla Garrity, but she doesn't look a thing like Tim." Becky reached for a picture, holding it up to the screen. "See?"

Luke rubbed is face. He was putting things together now. Texas. Asking about Tim. Daughter. Custody. Not Father. I'm so tired, he thought. And Becky, I don't see...I don't care, he thought, opening his eyes. Oh holy shit. Oh my God. Oh no…couldn't…no! He pointed his finger to the computer screen. It just confirmed his hunch. "That's…that's Billie Riggins?"

Becky lowered the picture, frowning. "Yeah. She wasn't here when you were in Dillon last time. She was with her grandmother in California. By the way, I found out today her real name isn't Billie. It's actually…"

"Sophie," he mumbled. That's what she said. Sophie Elizabeth but no one ever calls her that. He didn't want to know where the nickname Billie came from. He shook his head. "I can't believe her." I can't believe this! So it was true! He gripped the edge of the computer screen. "Becky, why did Tim go out of town with this…Lyla?"

"He wouldn't say."

"Of course he wouldn't."

Becky frowned now, confused. "So what's the point of this? You never cared about Tim's life before."

"And I don't," he snapped. For some reason I care about a stranger's life instead. He dropped his hands to the table, crossing them and leaning forward, his voice softening. "Becky I'm going to say something and you can go crazy but I don't really care…" He bit his lip, as she waited. Finally he spit it out. "I don't think Tim is Billie's real father."

That's when Becky surprised him, her voice firm. Mothering, he always called it. "I know."

He gaped. "You know!?"

"Yes, I know. I figured it out, the dates didn't match up. I know everything that goes on around here and it didn't match up with Tim. He's her adopted dad. And besides, it doesn't matter Luke. It doesn't matter because you don't see him with her. The fact that her mother has a job that keeps her out of her life a lot of the time and he took over? For a kid that wasn't his? It doesn't matter. It's just who he is." She bit her lower lip. "How did you know? You've never even met her."

I've met her mother. Or I think I've met her mother. "Doesn't matter," he said, echoing her words. He sighed hard. "So is she going to stay with Tim?"

"Yeah. She's going to stay with Tim. I mean…I don't know why she wouldn't stay with him. She's talking a little more. I mean…I heard her talking more. Telling Tim about princesses." She smiled. "It's good. I just hope that her mother leaving again doesn't turn her quiet. She's got a cute little voice."

"She's three, you think everything about her is cute."

"That's true. Luke, what's this all to you?" She seemed concerned. She frowned slightly. "So I mean…what's going on? Can you tell me?"

No, I can't tell you. He sighed hard, whispering. "I gotta' go to the store tomorrow." He paused and closed his eyes. "For a long time." Might not be able to talk. He bit his bottom lip, smiling a bit. "Maybe the bank." That was the worst thing he could say. He didn't want to mention it earlier, didn't want the kids to get worried about him. They'd started figuring it out. We've totally traumatized them. Now when I actually do go to the bank they think I'm going to get blown up.

Becky closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She smiled briefly. "I love you."

"I love you too." He waited, finally tearing his eyes away when Becky broke the connection. He closed the lid of the computer and closed his eyes, sighing hard. Well that was just…he couldn't believe it. The woman he'd been talking to the past few weeks…in a bar, in Germany of all places, on a military base and…he just…I need to go to bed, he thought, getting up and walked over to his bed, falling backwards. He hopped back up, pulling his computer towards him and looked up the directory for Landstuhl. A few minutes later, he found her.

_Maj. Lyla Garrity, M.D., Neurosurgical Unit, Board Certified in Neurology, Neuroskeletal Surgery, Neurosurgery, and Trauma Surgery, Beth Israel Medical Center Residency, Columbia University Medical School, Vanderbilt University, native of Dillon, Texas_

So that settled it then. Her entire CV was visible and he'd didn't even really need to confirm it. Lyla Garrity, that was Mystery Girl. Of all the gin joints, he figured. Someone from Dillon, the one person who according to Becky, and it must be true, could tie Tim Riggins down. And here he was complaining to her about his wife possibly having an emotional affair with the guy and she was clueless. She seemed confused about other things, like Tim was the last of her worries and maybe he was. Well, he thought, rolling over to set his alarm. Mystery Girl, I hope you got what you wanted. It seemed like she really didn't know, sitting there at the bar those few times. He sighed, resting his head on his pillow and closed his eyes. At least he knew what he wanted. To finish this mission and then take some R&R with his family when all was said and done. He'd find Lyla when he could, sort all this out. First, off to Africa.


	5. Come Back to Me

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews :) I am contemplating a Becky follow-up story, but I'm not sure. There is one more short chapter after this one. I didn't plan on dragging it out for very long. And yes, Lyla in my fics tends to be a bit on the edge of sanity, but that's because in the show she always struck me as one step away from truly going insane ;) Thanks for the comments, enjoy.

* * *

**5. Come Back to Me**

"Can he hear me?"

"Maybe, we don't know what goes on when people are in comas, but I encourage it. Keep talking to him."

"I can't thank you enough for the strings you pulled getting him here."

"It was the least I could do."

What was going on? What were they talking about? Why did it feel like he had cotton stuffed in his mouth? "Baby, don't put your stuffed animal in Daddy's mouth."

"But I want him to get a kiss better."

So that explained the cotton feeling in his mouth. Okay. One question answered. Now, why can't I open my eyes? What the hell had happened? The last thing he remembered…he flinched, feeling pain radiating down every single limb. Oh fuck, he really screwed the pooch on that landing, didn't he? Colonel Forrester from flight school would murder him just like he said he would if he screwed up the landing and died. Guess I didn't die then, huh Colonel, he felt like saying. Ha. He flinched again, more pain.

They were over a desert and a bunch of rocks. There was a flash of light from the camp. The tail went out just before he hit the ground. Someone pulled him out. There was an explosion. He couldn't feel his feet. At some point after the bad landing that almost killed him and being where he assumed was somewhere in Texas, since he could hear his son singing how bright the stars were in Texas, then yeah. Guess that's where he was, but somewhere in between he was pretty sure he couldn't feel his feet.

He opened his eyes, immediately shutting them. That was a very bright light; he didn't care for it. He opened them slowly again, rolling them sideways. Things were blurry on the edges, but he saw Becky leaning over him. "Oh my God, baby it's me, it's Becky, follow my voice."

I can hear you. He glanced to another image on the other side of him. It was her. Mystery Girl. Wearing Army fatigues that had an oak leaf on one collar and a caduceus on another. Garrity over one pocket and U.S. Army on the other. A Marksman badge beneath the U.S. Army. A stethoscope around her neck. Wow, she really was telling the truth. She flicked a light in his eyes. "Hello Lieutenant Cafferty, you gave everyone a scare. Your pupils are dilating normally, following the light with them please." So he did. He followed her finger. He blinked once when she told him to, blinked twice when she instructed him to again. He wiggled his toes, his fingers, and stuck out his tongue. He coughed when she told him to do that too. "Very good, can you speak?" she finally asked.

"Where…" he coughed again. It felt like there was an elephant on his chest. He coughed again. "Am I?"

"Landstuhl," Lyla said, reaching to lift his bed up. She smiled. "It's nice to see you again Lieutenant Cafferty. Nice to put a name to the face. You were in a helicopter crash in Africa. They evacuated you here and I performed live-saving spinal surgery on you so I think you owe me the next round."

Becky smiled, leaning over him and brushed her fingers over his forehead. "Lyla's the girl you met at the bar," she said, smiling. She shrugged at his confused look. How did she know that? She smiled again, a little knowing smile just between both of them, her voice soft. "I figured it out when we got here. I'm your wife. I know just about everything Luke."

Yes, you certainly did, he thought, smiling. He looked over at the twins, who were staring at both of them. He twitched his fingers, beckoning them towards him. A few minutes later, they were asleep beside him and he was much more alert than before. He looked over at the door opening, the last person he expected to see walking into the small room.

"You look like shit Fours."

He smiled, even though it hurt. "Thanks," he croaked.

"You should land helicopters the right way."

He wanted to say a couple of choice words, but with little kids present, wisely kept his mouth shut. Right now he didn't need Riggins giving him crap. He looked over at the little girl in Riggins's arms. In person she looked identical to Lyla but there were other features he didn't recognize. He glanced at Tim. They weren't his. He smiled a little. No, it really didn't matter. "How'd you get here?"

"I conned my way into a military pass and flew over," the other man said, turning when the door opened again. "Well if it isn't Major Garrity."

"Momma," the girl cooed, reaching for her.

"Hey baby girl, I'm working right now, but come here, really quick and give me a big hug." She gave her daughter a tight squeeze, kissing her…and hugging her very tight. She passed her back to Tim, whispering a few things to him. He nodded to the crew and Becky got up, said she loved him and she'd be back, and they all left together. He looked at Lyla. Was she going to kill him? "Exam," she said, as a nurse came in with a little kit, beginning to fuss with his IV and arm. She walked over to the other side of him, smiling, her voice soft. "I'm sure you have questions."

"What happened?" he mumbled. He felt a prick as the nurse removed his IV, replacing it with a fresh one. He frowned up at her, whispering. "I don't remember."

Dr. Garrity…Major Garrity…hell he had no idea what to think of her right now. She crossed her arms over her chest. "You sustained a bruise spinal column," she said, her voice very clear and concise. He imagined she had experience in delivering bad news like this. She gestured with her hands. "You came down and landed hard. The impact essentially sent shockwaves up your back and bruise your spine. It didn't help when the SEAL who saved your ass, by the way you should buy him a beer too, pulled you abruptly. It didn't tear anything, thank God, but you received more shock injuries than anything else. You broke some ribs, you had a punctured lung…you were kind of a mess. They stabilized you in Djbouti before sending you to me. I did surgery on your back and you can feel your feet now."

He narrowed his eyes, whispering. "How'd you fix it if my spine was bruised?"

"I stabilized it. You had cracked vertebrae. The spine would fix itself on its own. You've been out for two weeks Lieutenant." She smiled, patting his face with her hand. "Your family just got here. Mine apparently went along for the ride, freeloaders that they are." She paused. Her dark eyes fixed on his. "I didn't know you knew Tim," she whispered. She smiled. "I didn't know you were Luke Cafferty. Surprised me as well."

"I didn't know you were Lyla Garrity," he said. He smiled a little, whispering. "I don't think I ever would have figured it out." It wasn't like he'd ever met her. Or was very close with the Garrity family.

She didn't seem so sure, chuckling and glancing down at adjusting some of his monitors. "Well I've been drinking a lot…it's been pretty stressful. I would have slipped eventually."

Yeah. Seemed like it. He frowned, peering up at her. It felt like his eyes were swollen closed, they were so scratchy and puffy. He hesitated, but then smiled again. "You…custody problems?"

That had her fumbling a bit with some of the wires, plugging them in and readjusting. After a moment, she nodded briefly. "I'm sure you know by now but Tim isn't Billie's father." She looked down at him, her eyes soft again. They seemed sadder. "My boyfriend and I were going to have the baby together. I had already signed my papers for the Army…I was in the middle of my residency and it wasn't good timing for either of us but we figured we'd do it and…he backed out last minute. Didn't want to be a single dad while I was overseas. Or really anything like that." She sighed again, mumbling. "Billie went to live with my mom. I went to Afghanistan. Went to Iraq…I went home briefly to bring her to Texas to be with my dad after my mom was going to go to India on a yoga retreat…"

"Bad timing."

"My mother is pretty selfish these days," Lyla said, but she still smiling. Her voice dropped, hushed. "Tim and I reconnected and…and he couldn't let her go. Things happen for a reason and I don't know what, but…" She shrugged again, laughing. "She loved him and he loved her…it takes a very….strong person to love someone else's child like theirs. Billie was two and she was Sophie, but…" she chuckled, biting her lower lip and lifted her eyes. "Billie comes from…we were playing a game and Billy Riggins was messing with her. Started calling her that and she got mad when we would call her Sophie. It stuck."

"There are worse names."

"My daughter is nicknamed after Billy Riggins, trust me, there's no more worse name for me." She waited a moment, returning to her story. "Anyways…Tim's the only dad she knows. My ex then decided recently that he might want a chance." She smiled at him. "I wasn't at the bar a few weeks ago because I'd been allowed leave to go deal with the custody arrangements. The judge told Michael he had to make amends, but right now it would upset Billie too much." She blew out a hard breath, her eyebrow arching, and her voice a normal volume. "So here I am in Germany, Tim Riggins has left the United States for a country other than Mexico, and as far as I know, Karl has banned him from the bar because he wanted to take a barrel of beer home with him."

Luke chuckled. Yeah, setting Tim loose on a country known for brewing his favorite product probably wouldn't end well. "Well at least now it's out in the open," he said. He narrowed his eyes. "Mystery Girl."

"I've been called worse things." She reached back to touch the braided twisted bun at the back of her neck, tucking at a few stray strands. Her hands dropped back down again to the bars of the bed. "It's okay. You'd have figured it out eventually. I was already…" she narrowed her eyes. "Wondering what your connection was to Tim."

He rolled his eyes. At least she figured it out. "I only got it cause' Becky showed me a picture of your kid and I recognized her."

"Yeah, well, at least you figured it out." She laughed. "I figured it out when Tim called me to do anything I could to bring you to me and not some other hack of a surgeon," she said, smiling again. She adjusted his pillow behind his neck, sighing. "You'll need to be very still. We took the halo off of you yesterday, but you'll have to wear this neck and chest thing until I do another scan to check your healing." She patted his knee, her voice soft and her eyes comforting. He could see why she was a good doctor. She had all the qualities for it. "You are in for a long recovery process, but you will recover."

A thought suddenly occurred to him. He looked over at her. "Am I going to fly again?" he whispered.

She glanced down at her notes. That was probably all the confirmation he needed. "Not in the next few months, no," she murmured. She nibbled her lower lip, arching an eyebrow. "There have been pilots who return to the cockpit after injuries like this, but…it takes a lot time and the Army has a very…difficult." Read, impossible, he felt like saying. "A difficult medical examination to pass to be cleared for flying again." She shrugged, whispering. "You may have your out."

I don't want my out to be like this. I want my out to be my damn choice, he felt like yelling. He closed his eyes. Hell, he was exhausted and he'd barely done anything. "Can Becky come back?" he mumbled.

"Yeah."

"Hey Lyla."

She turned, at the door, smiling. "Yeah?"

Luke grinned. "I'll buy the next round, but you may be on your own after I go stateside."

"First round's on me at Buddy's then," she said, opening the door and grinning, ushering Becky and the kids back inside with the threat that they had to keep it down and let him rest.

He smiled, his kids piling around him, careful of his wires and tubes, their little heads resting on his chest. He smiled up at Becky. "I'm coming home," he said. In case she hadn't already figured that out.

Becky squeezed his hand tight, tears flooding her eyes. "Yes and I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Well, he thought, sighing and closed his eyes, drifting to sleep again. He could live with that.


	6. Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

**A/N: ** I'm in the US, so many thanks to all the US service men/women/families who live separation in real life :) And Happy Fourth to the American readers! Enjoy this final chapter.

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**6. Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder**

"This is a weird birthday party," Luke commented, sitting at the bar in Buddy's as Tim lowered the Beauty and the Beast ice cream cake with five fat pink candles in it in front of Billie, who was giggling and looking around, wearing a crown to go with her fairy outfit. Everyone was singing 'Happy Birthday' and gathered around as Tim knelt at Billie's side, his arm around her shoulders as she contemplated her wishe.

Becky smiled, sitting on the stool beside him. "It's her birthday, her mom isn't here, you know…Tim went all out, as much as he could."

Yes. This was just the end of the day, earlier they had gone to a nearby ranch where all the kids got pony rides, Billie opened her presents, and yes, Tim even bought her a pony. "He bought her a pony."

"Her mom is in Afghanistan, he can buy her all the ponies in the world if he wants."

That was true. He shrugged, leaning back a little more on the barstool. Becky walked over to join the gathering, as Billie giggled and looked up as everyone finished singing. He stretched his legs out in front of him, wiggling his toes in his boots and watching as the tops moved. It had been about ten months since his accident. He had just been cleared for flight status and would be returning to his squadron in Africa in about four weeks. Until then, he was going to savor everything here in Texas.

He turned around, to ask Buddy for another beer, when he caught who was standing beside him. He just stared for a second before clearing his throat. "I think I owe you a beer, right?"

"You can pay for it in a moment," she whispered. She looked exhausted, he thought, standing there in her cammies. She set her cover down on the countertop, turning to look at the party. No one had noticed her yet. He wasn't sure when they would. "Slipped in through the back," she said. She arched an eyebrow. "Daddy is too trusting, leaving the back door open." She patted his knee. "Showtime."

It took a moment, as she sidled up slowly to the rest of the crowd, gathered around to see Billie, who finally had blown out her candles. Tim was cutting her a piece of cake when she gasped, her eyes wide. Her smile pulled across her entire face and she giggled, staring at Lyla, who was just grinning at her. She finally pointed. "Momma," she said, moving to get out of her chair, sliding beneath Tim's arm.

"That's not funny," Tim said, setting a piece of cake on her placemat. "Here." He set a spoon in the bowl, standing up and turned to look straight at Lyla. His mouth fell open, neither saying anything.

Lyla finally smiled. "Hi," she called, the entire bar silent. She lifted her eyebrows, holding her arms out, giggling. "Surprise!"

Billie, who had made her way mostly across the room, finally let out a loud scream, realizing that it was really true and then Luke heard this strange gasp/howl from Tim, who vaulted over the chair and table, knocking down several glasses and plates in his wake, grabbing hold of her and almost pinning her to the floor. Billie jumped up to join in the melee, grabbing Lyla's hand and tugging her towards the cake, saying she needed some.

Then it devolved into chaos. Everyone was cheering, grabbing for Lyla, and wanting to know how she'd gotten back and why she'd kept it all a surprise. How long did she have, when was she going back, was hse back for good, there were tons of wonderings that various members of the family were voicing. It would go on for a long time, Luke thought, pushing his empty beer glass across the bar. He hopped off the stool, leaning on his cane for a moment until he had his balance back. He walked over to Becky, who was wiping her eyes, holding her phone up. "Don't send it to the media," he warned.

"Well someone here will, might as well be me."

"You think Tim wants that on TV?"

She rolled her eyes. Magic words. "No, fine." She set her phone down, smiling at him. "Did you know about this?"

"How would I know about it?"

"You know a lot of things with Lyla. I don't understand it, but I respect it."

Just like I respect you and Tim, he figured, his arm going around her shoulders. "I didn't know Sproles. How long is she back?"

"I heard her tell Tim in between his assaulting her and Billie ripping out of her arm that she only has two days." She quirked her lip, her eyebrow turning up with it. "We never had that short a time."

He kissed her temple, whispering into her ear. "Give me two more years."

She nodded. They'd had this conversation before. She held her finger up, warning him. "Two years. That's it. No more."

He chuckled. That was all he could keep up with. Two years. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She'd been through a lot. After two years, it'd be all about her, he thought, resting his head against hers, looking over at Tim and Lyla. His voice was soft. "She's going to stay in."

"Hmm?"

He could see it. The people who did their time because they had to for whatever reason and left. Then there were the ones who would stay. Garrity would stay. He sighed, his eyes closed. It was silly to say, but he wanted to say it. "You know…you and Tim…I don't get it, but…if it's what makes you happy."

She looked up at him, smiling. "It does."

"Okay then. I'm fine with it."

She laughed, lightly nudging his shoulder, whispering. "Look at what he has with her. Besides, I don't want him. Not after I met you." She kissed his cheek, smiling and squeezed him tight. He closed his eyes, hugging her in return. He was fine with it. It was funny. It took someone from Dillon meeting him in Germany to finally figure that part out. She rested her chin on his shoulder, her arms around him, watching the kids starting to play with some of Billie's new toys.

He glanced down at her. "You ready to go home?" They could catch up with Tim and Lyla later. Besides…he glanced at Lyla, who was sitting in a chair with Billie in her arms, the little girl refusing to let her go and trying to eat one-handed. He suspected she'd be busy for the rest of the evening.

"Yeah, let me just go say bye to Tim."

He found Mindy and Billy, telling them to take the kids for the night; they'd be busy with playing with the rest of their friends and the other people present for Billie's birthday. He left the bar, holding his cane in his hand, not bothering to use it, and caught Lyla's eye as he held open the door for Becky. She lifted her fingertips, waving slightly. He smiled, waving with the cane and then glanced at it. He set it aside, leaning against the wall and walked out, letting the door swing shut. He'd catch her the next time. Hell, she did owe him a drink after all.

**THE END (?)**


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